Chapter 22
"Where Do We Go From Here?"
The shrill sound of the phone ringing woke Stewart up. He'd become a light sleeper, as it was, but the piercing sound would have been hard to miss even if he hadn't been one. It cut through the silence with brutal force, demanding immediate attention. He'd grown to both dread and long hearing it ring – bad news, good news; he had no way of knowing which one it would be until he'd picked it up.
Usually it was the latter, but one could only live in hope, however dim it might be.
He grunted in his effort, but he eventually managed to pull himself out of bed, always taking care not to wake up a sleeping B.B.. He blinked hard, trying to get his eyes to focus and locate the source of the offending noise within their shared room. The landline, as usual, lay atop one of B.B.'s expensive chest of drawers. He remembered when she'd first bought them, back when she'd been pregnant with C.C. – he'd thought them to possibly be the ugliest chest of drawers he'd ever seen.
But then again, since he had but a faint fingerhold on what constituted tasteful décor, he'd said nothing and had let his wife rule her little kingdom in peace. He'd always indulged her when she was pregnant, and if the price to pay for her happiness was allowing her to get ugly furniture for their home, then he was more than willing to pay it.
With a sigh, Stewart lumbered to the phone, heart heavy in his chest. He wasn't holding out hope for getting any good news – nobody called in the dead of the night to share it. It was more often than not a case of bad news being shared.
Still, good or bad, he wanted – needed – to know.
"Stewart Babcock speaking," he rasped into the phone, rubbing his tired face.
"She's back, sir," a very familiar Brit said from the other end of the line, "Your daughter's back."
If it hadn't been for the sudden tightness in his chest, and the fact that Niles had spoken so calmly and clearly (despite his own obvious happiness and relief at the news and at being able to tell it), then Stewart didn't think he'd have believed what he'd just heard.
C.C...Niles had said that she was back...!
And even if part of Stewart's brain wanted to doubt and say that they didn't know for sure it was really her, it couldn't stay as pessimistic as it wanted to be, when the rest of his body started to warm up. Niles wouldn't lie about this. And he most definitely wouldn't call them up in the middle of the night to do it! He was a good, honourable man – he'd never go so far as doing something so callous and wrong.
That meant it had to be true. They were getting their daughter back! Their C.C. was coming home!
And Stewart felt his breathing speed up and overtake the breath of air that came in through the ajar bedroom window (as fresh as New York air could be), as his heart started to pound out of his chest.
"You...you really mean it...?!" The question was automatic, even though it was obvious that of course he meant it. Again, Niles would never lie to them about this!
And he definitely didn't disappoint in his reply, either.
"Of course I mean it, sir! She's in hospital right now, and...well, could be here for a while, but she's safe."
Stewart let out an involuntary cry (it definitely woke B.B. up, but he would've done it anyway the moment the call was over). Their girl was alive! Injured, from the sounds of things, and that flipped his stomach over until he turned nauseous, but he had to keep telling himself that it was far, far better than the alternative.
They'd have her back. Their little girl would be home again, and by God, she'd never be let out of the sight of any of them!
They had to get down there! The call had woken him up enough that he knew he could drive, even in the weather outside (he thought he could take part in the Indy 500, with how sobering it was!).
They had to see their girl, hold her and talk to her. Right then and now. Or, as close to now as they could make it.
"Where?" his voice nearly broke on the question, as his eyes got close to tears. "Which hospital?"
"Lennox Hill, sir," replied the butler.
Stewart could have done a backflip right then and there – his child was only a forty-minute drive away! He simply had to get dressed and hop on the car, and sooner than he'd have known, he'd be with her. They'd be with her, he corrected himself as he glanced over at B.B.. She had not gotten out of bed yet, but she was clearly listening to everything that he was saying and would no doubt demand answers the moment he hang up the phone.
"We'll be there as soon as possible," he told Niles, "Tell her we'll get dressed and get go–"
"I am afraid I can't do that, sir," Niles cut in, having interrupted Stewart mid-sentence.
Stewart frowned – why couldn't he do that? He was there with C.C., wasn't he? He would have thought Niles capable of delivering simple message!
"How come?" asked the businessman, "Is there any problem?"
The short silence that followed his question served as his ominous answer.
"Niles?" insisted Stewart, worry permeating his words, "What's going on there? Is she okay?"
"She is in the ICU, sir," Niles said with a sigh, "She…she's currently asleep – they've given her a sedative. I…I really don't think this is a matter to be discussed over the phone."
Stewart's stomach was back in knots immediately.
The ICU?! And a sedative?! Why hadn't he said so?! When he'd said that C.C. was hurt, he'd imagined some cuts and bruises – maybe some broken bones, too – but this made it sound like she was really badly hurt!
They had to get over there and find out what was going on, right away! Their girl needed them!
"No, it isn't," Stewart said quickly, already looking around for clothes to throw on. "We'll be there in a moment, Niles – is Detective Lane with you?"
"She had to get back to the station. She asked me to stay with your daughter."
Stewart was sure it was a job Niles didn't mind doing. But he'd be able to go and get some rest as soon as they got there.
Got there, and found out what the hell was going on.
"Alright," the businessman nodded, even if the butler couldn't see him do it. "We'll get dressed and be on our way. See you soon, Niles."
"See you soon, sir."
Stewart hung up the phone after that, very quickly mentally reminding himself to again insist that Niles call him by his first name, once they'd gotten to the hospital and assessed the situation.
He deserved to be treated like an equal. Especially after everything he'd done.
B.B. was sat bolt-upright in bed when Stewart turned to look, her face riddled with unspoken questions and worries. She'd obviously gotten some sort of an idea as to what the conversation was about, but she didn't know all the details yet.
But he could stop looking for his shirt for a moment, in order to hurry over, sit on the edge of the bed and tell her.
"They...they found C.C.," he said, and it felt good to say aloud, despite the fears in his stomach over what condition she was in. "She's in the ICU at Lenox Hill. She's alive, B.B., and she's safe...!"
It was B.B.'s turn to let out an involuntary cry at that.
Hospital...alive...safe... She never thought she'd see her daughter again, much less with any of those words attached! She'd been waiting and dreading the day that somebody phoned to tell her there was nothing more to be done – that they'd found a body, and her daughter wasn't coming home...!
But she would come home. As soon as she was well. B.B. didn't care if she was in the ICU – she wouldn't be, eventually! She'd get better and come back to them!
And it was this thought, accompanied by the overwhelming relief in her heart, that set her throwing herself into Stewart's arms, weeping.
Stewart gladly held her in return, feeling a relieved smile break out over his face. B.B. wasn't going to spend any more nights crying into the darkness, fearing the worst for their girl and her safety, and their whole family could come back together again.
They could have the Christmas that they'd missed, in the month just gone. There wouldn't be an empty seat at the table (there would even be an extra one for Niles, for everything that he'd done, if he could make it), or shadows hanging all around the house and making it feel as big and empty as their lives had felt...
Neither of them had ever been anything but rich. However, Stewart supposed that this must've been what winning the lottery felt like. In an instant, it was as though practically every problem they'd ever had no longer existed. And, if it still did, it would go away sooner rather than later. There was only a bright, brand-new future ahead.
Whatever had happened with their daughter, it was over. They'd see that she got whatever she needed.
He kept telling himself that, to combat the awful reality of what could've happened that C.C. might need treatment for. His mind could only offer the most awful of imaginings, and it was starting to turn the very thought that his girl was back sour.
He couldn't let that happen. They'd been praying for this; wishing, hoping, and working towards whatever they could do to get her back again. And he knew he'd rather have her back, alive and safe with them, than not at all.
But they needed to get to the hospital. Even if the fears came back about what state she could be in, or how she'd seem when she talked or moved, they needed to be with her.
B.B., especially.
He nudged her head with his gently, and started to rub his hand up and down her back as he murmured.
"Shall we go see her?"
B.B. couldn't let go of him – she was clearly too overwhelmed for that – but she did manage to nod her head, wordlessly and enthusiastically.
Stewart felt himself managing another smile again, brighter and warmer than the last. It was like the sunshine he was imagining they'd be able to take C.C. out into, and spend happy days again as a family. Once this nightmare was all firmly in the past, of course.
It wasn't done yet. They had to go to their girl first, let her know that they were there. And, this time, no one was going away again, for any reason.
Rubbing B.B.'s back some more, Stewart nodded into her shoulder and started to get up, "Alright, then. Let's go see our girl. Can you manage, or do you need my help getting dressed?"
Slowly releasing her hold on him, B.B. sniffed as she shook with the overwhelming adrenaline, "I...I can do it...I can manage...!"
"Alright, we'll go see her," Stewart felt his heart grow warm as he watched her start to get up, and together they began to dress as quickly as they could.
Neither wanted to waste a single moment.
It was the liveliest Stewart had seen B.B. in so long, he almost felt his fears of what could be waiting for them drift away. But he knew he had to be realistic, too. C.C. had been gone for so long, so much was bound to have happened, and she had to have been...affected by it all. They'd deal with that when the time came. What mattered was that they were there.
And even without speaking to one another about it, Stewart and B.B. both knew that, in terms of being there and providing support, they'd never let their daughter down again.
The silence that stretched between them was almost electric – both parents were buzzing with excitement as they rushed all over the room, hastily getting ready to go. Clothes were already on, so the only thing left for them to do was bundle up in their warmest winter gear, grab keys and wallets and then they'd be off.
They'd be taking the Range Rover, that was for certain. Stewart didn't want to chance them having an accident due to the inclement weather when they were so close to being reunited with the daughter they thought lost forever.
When they were ready, the two Babcocks rushed out of the room, not caring to turn off the lights or the heating, and soon they were jumping into their vehicle. They could feel both of their hearts hammering in their chests and the blood pulsing through their veins. It was a foreign feeling, being alive. They had missed it in the last few months. Everything around them – colours, sounds, sights… it seemed more real. More vivid. Even the air they were breathing felt different. They hadn't noticed, but up until recently they might as well have been drowning.
Sorrow can do that to a person.
Stewart felt las if he were invincible. Made of steel. He was struggling not to go over the speed limit as it was; he had to remind himself over and over again that he'd be of no use if he was dead or injured. He cared little for speeding tickets, but he did intend to keep himself and his wife alive and safe until they got to Lennox Hill.
He intended to do everything he could to keep his family safe now. Even the tiniest, most trivial things would be taken into account - nothing would be spared, if it made certain to do something that kept them all together.
He wasn't going to do anything that could end up in somebody being taken away again.
That included taking extra care in the car. He'd never been so keen to obey the rules of the road before, which was something new to him - most often, he got irritated at the fact that he had to let New York's traffic act as a natural speed reduction.
The police were going to love him, and for all of their hard work, he felt like it was the least that he could do.
He could probably scare up a large, generous donation to the service as well. But that would happen on another day, when he hadn't just spent forty minutes squinting out into the awful weather from the car, trying his best to concentrate on the road and not get distracted by thoughts of what state their daughter could be in.
It was a mostly silent journey. Stewart didn't try to bring anything else up because he knew it wouldn't stick, and he didn't accidentally want to project his fears onto B.B..
So, he kept it as calm and collected as he could, and before long (even though it felt like an age), they were looking for a parking space in front of the hospital.
The lights were on inside, but he didn't think he'd ever seen a hospital look so quiet...
It was...oddly peaceful. He hoped that C.C. could sense the peace the entire building seemed to radiate. She'd need that sense of security, the reassurance...
There was a space. It was mostly hidden by the piled-up snow, but there were a couple of other cars alongside, so it had to be one.
A little bit of careful manoeuvring later, and they were parked.
Steeling himself for the big moment with a deep breath, Stewart turned to look at B.B. again.
"Well, this is it. We should get inside and announce ourselves - Niles'll be here, and maybe we'll get to talk to Lane later, if she comes back from the station..."
He really hoped that she would. How else would they be able to thank the woman who'd given up practically all the hours of her day, for eight months solid, to see that their girl came back to them?
She deserved thanking. And they needed to know what happened next, so who better to ask?
His already spoken question was having an impact on B.B.. She'd been quiet and had mostly just stared ahead during the car ride, but knowing that they were finally going in and hearing his voice confirm it had snapped her eyes up with a kind of ready eagerness that he wouldn't have imagined possible only days ago.
It was nice to see. Like a little burst of sunshine breaking through storm-clouds.
"There's only one way to know if we will, isn't there?" she asked quietly, her voice still sounding almost on the verge of tears.
Stewart half-smiled. She was right - they'd been sat there hesitating for long enough. Their girl needed them and he couldn't let his own fears about how she was get in the way of what they had to do.
And, first and foremost, they had to be her parents. No matter what that meant.
He took B.B.'s hand briefly, squeezing it and kissing it, before releasing it and opening his door into a freezing blast of foul weather that would've made lesser men with more trivial destinations in mind recoil and refuse to leave the warmth of their homes and cars.
But Stewart wasn't a lesser man. He was a father, going to the side of his daughter, who needed him.
"Stay in the car, I'll come out and open it for you..."
B.B. could only nod in return. It must have been her nerves, getting the better of her again. Stepping outside meant getting a little bit closer to finding out what had happened to C.C. and it was hard to tell what that would be like yet.
Would it be just as bad as they'd feared? Worse?
One thing for sure, it wasn't going to be better. Life might've thrown them a curveball miracle by letting their daughter come home to them alive, but they couldn't possibly be lucky in everything.
Steward preferred not to think about it. Not for as long as he could, anyway. He'd much rather just see his girl.
And that involved undoing his seatbelt and stepping out of the car, into a cold wind so fierce he thought his blood might freeze, while the howling all around him sounded deafening.
It was like a choir of banshees, declaring that winter reigned there, when everyone else could only bunker down and pray for spring...
Trudging through the piles up snow and chilled to his innermost depths, Stewart made his way around to B.B.'s side, inviting her into his arms and coat so that they could share warmth on their way into the hospital.
As much as they could, anyway.
It felt like the longest walk of their lives, despite the fact that they could see the doors the entire time as they moved. Both wished that they could talk to one another on the way, but there was no point - they wouldn't be able to hear each other above the weather.
All they could do was give glances.
Encouraging. Scared. Determined. Apprehensive.
Back and forth they went, each showing the other how they felt in the simplest of terms and expressions, so close the snow couldn't blind them to it, and they continued with it all the way up until they almost fell through the hospital doors.
It would've been impossible not to; the way the blizzard had piled everything up made the lack of resistance once they were through the doors suddenly seem very different and odd.
It certainly caught the attention of one of the nurses, who must've assumed that they had an emergency on their hands - not that she was wrong, but she was directing her worry at the wrong person, in Stewart's mind. The woman hurried over as fast as she could, openly fretting and clearly prepared to call for a doctor.
"Oh, my goodness! Is everything okay?!" she looked them both over, checking for signs of injury. "Is someone hurt?!"
Someone was hurt, thought Stewart. But it wasn't him or B.B..
He tried to reassure the woman, but it came out as a desperate plea at the same time, "Please, Miss; we're not hurt at all, we're looking for our daughter - C.C. Babcock. We were told she's been admitted here! Do you know where she is?"
The nurse looked uncomfortable for a moment. It was a strange and slightly infuriating expression to have to read – had she heard about the case? Did she know something? Was she holding back on them because she wasn't allowed to talk about it?
Each thought passed through Stewart's head with increasing animosity and frustration. But before he could start to demand louder, or call for somebody else who might be able to tell them, the nurse spoke, shifting from foot to foot.
"I, um...I'm sorry, I hate to have to do this, but the hospital will need to see some sort of identification before we can let you in to see her," she explained, sounding a little like someone had just forced her to sit down in something cold and wet. "It's Detective Lane's orders, and a policy of ours..."
Both parents' reactions were different, but they meant the same thing; they didn't appreciate being delayed. All nervousness from before had fled them the minute they'd gotten through the door – it didn't matter, no matter what, their girl was coming home.
It didn't matter if their predictions were better, worse or the same as what she'd gone through. What mattered was helping her get past it, and continue to live her life.
B.B.'s first reaction was to allow her jaw to drop. This woman...this... nurse was going to just stand there in the way of two parents who thought they'd lost their child forever, all for the sake of a couple of identification cards?! They were clearly not deranged lunatics, out looking for a woman to drag away!
Couldn't she simply let them through, just this once?! As soon as C.C. saw them she'd know them, and then all the staff would see that they weren't a threat!
They just wanted to see their baby...
Stewart, on the other hand, felt like he was burning up inside like a forest fire at the mere thought of having to delay seeing their daughter, even for a few moments. But he didn't argue, and even put a hand on B.B.'s shoulder to stop her from trying (not that it would have been a long or particularly productive attempt at getting them in).
If it was Detective Lane who'd put the order in, she had a reason. And, no matter how much he hated having to wait around and start to dig through his wallet, he knew it would be better than trying to go in and ending up arrested.
The last thing they needed was another member of their family going away...
He looked up at the nurse with resolve on his face, "Drivers' license okay?"
The nurse replied affirmatively, and soon enough she had taken both Stewart and B.B.'s licenses away and was checking her computer to give the couple the all-clear. It didn't take her long to return, smiling apologetically.
"Here you are," she said, returning the Babcocks' ID's. "Now, Mr and Mrs Babcock, do you know how to get to the ICU?"
The couple replied that no, they didn't know how to get to the unit. They'd never been to Lennox Hill before, and they'd much rather not get lost in their attempt to get to their child. They knew of the hospital's prestige and professionalism, but at the same time they had little patience for any more delays.
After the nurse had given them clear instructions on how to get to C.C.'s room, the pair thanked her politely and went on their way, Stewart holding his wife close to him by wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Neither was strong without the other's support, both Babcocks knew this. They'd promised to stick together to get through this, and neither Stewart nor B.B. were about to go back on that promise.
It took them barely five minutes to make their way to the ICU, but by the time they were mere steps away from their daughter's door, both parents could barely tolerate the wait. They'd done more than enough waiting these past months, all the while not knowing if they would ever see their child again. They needed to see her, and they needed to see her now. That was the only way they would be able to shake the ghosts that haunted them every single day.
B.B. was the one who reached out for the handle. With a quick push, the door was open to both parents, who came face to face with their child.
Or what remained of her.
Stewart felt the only reason B.B. hadn't collapsed on the floor, weeping at the sight, was because she'd staggered a little first and he'd pulled her back, whimpering very slightly, into his hold.
If he was being truthful, holding onto his wife was the only reason he wasn't doing exactly that. B.B. was currently his rock to cling to in the worst of storms.
He'd just never once imagined that the storm would be their girl, motionless and clearly in a sleep so deep that another might imagine that she'd died in the night. But she wasn't dead – they could see shallow breathing, coming from this thin, clearly bruised and beaten (that word sent angry and desperate chills running straight through Stewart) woman, with her arm in a cast, who had once been...
No. Was still their daughter. No matter what had happened, they weren't going to act like she'd become somebody else just because of this! They'd wanted her back for so long, and they'd already said that it didn't matter how, as long as she was alive...
There she was. Alive. Hurting, probably both inside and out, and causing them to hurt like neither had ever experienced before in their lives. But she was there, nonetheless. They could even see Niles at her bedside, clearly keeping a vigil that had probably run into the hours by now, because he knew that she would wake up.
She was alive. And it gave him hope.
And that hope for life was what encouraged Stewart to take a step forward, closing the door (making Niles look up, at last, and to rise from his chair) as they stepped fully inside and bringing an upset B.B. with him.
"That's our baby...Stewart, that's our little girl...!"
She seemed on the verge of tears, which simply poured salt on the wounds in his insides by seeing C.C. as she was. But he was determined to ignore it.
For his daughter's sake, as well as his and B.B.'s own.
The businessman slipped his hand into his wife's and gripped it tightly. He walked them towards the side of the bed to meet the butler as he spoke.
"Yeah...that's our girl..."
Saying those words hurt.
The daughter they remembered was nothing like the emaciated wisp of a grown woman that currently lay in the hospital bed. Now Lane's insistence for visitors to show an ID upon arrival didn't seem pointless – someone had hurt his girl. Hurt her real bad. The last thing any of them wanted was for that bastard to creep into her room and take her away again when nobody was looking.
She needed protection and would get just that. He knew he would spend his entire life standing guard outside her door, if that was what it took to keep her safe.
Still, there were one too many unanswered questions piling up in his heart and mind. He needed answers. Urgently. So he turned to the one man who might have an inkling of what had been done to their sleeping child.
"Hello Niles," said Stewart, briefly letting go of B.B. to share a quick hug with the butler.
"Shall we go outside?" Niles asked, clearly knowing what Stewart was after.
It was only natural; wanting to know. But if they were going to discuss C.C.'s ordeal, he'd much rather do it out of Miss Babcock's earshot.
Stewart glanced quickly at B.B. and then at their daughter, considered briefly, and then nodded. If their girl woke up and heard what they were talking about, she could be devastated by it.
Traumatised. That was more the word. It was unlikely that she would wake - she looked like she'd been 'helped' to get like that in the first place - but he didn't want to take the chance.
Everything was already troubling enough, without anybody having to calm her back into resting...
But it could also be best that he went alone with Niles. B.B. would of course have to know what they'd talked about, but she also needed to spend time by their daughter's side. She needed to see and to know that C.C. was safe, and that she was going to be okay.
And sometimes, being okay took a quiet room without any talking in it.
So, as he turned to follow the butler out, he took B.B.'s hand and entwined their fingers briefly.
"Hey, why don't you sit with C.C. while I find out what happened? Spend some time with her, and we can talk in a moment."
Part of B.B. considered protesting some then. She was, after all, an adult who could be part of an adult conversation, no matter what the details included. She needed to know if it was all as bad as she feared it was.
But another part of her didn't want to hear a thing. Not even later on, with softer words from Stewart. It wanted to take their daughter home, help her get better, and then never speak of it ever again.
But neither side was going to win, completely. Not in the exact way that it wanted to. And she did want to sit with C.C., just watching her sleep and seeing her breathe and knowing that she was...well, definitely not the worst that she'd feared.
So, she gave Stewart the nod, seated herself where Niles had been, and he kept going.
His heart kept going, too. This was it – this was the moment where he'd find out all the awful things that had already been done and that he hadn't been able to stop, or protect his daughter from.
This was where he'd find out how much he'd failed as a parent. Because in his mind, that was what failing to protect her ultimately meant, no matter how old his children were.
He closed the door behind them as they got to the corridor, his fists clenching and unclenching in some sort of nervous tick reaction he never knew he had.
Swallowing, he finally spoke.
"Okay. Tell me. What's been figured out so far?"
Niles pursed his lips ever so slightly. He had a feeling the older Babcock needed to be sitting down if he was to hear the news. If they had floored him, a mere intruding butler, Niles feared they'd be too much for Stewart to take. He remember there were seats just outside the ICU – maybe he should walk him there and have him take a seat before dropping the bomb?
It certainly appeared to be the best course of action.
"Sir, wouldn't you rather sit down?" Niles said quietly, so as not to disturb C.C.'S slumber or that of the patients in adjacent rooms. "I think it would be best if you did so before we discuss–"
"Tell me now," Stewart interrupted, his voice sounding almost like a growl. "I've done more than enough waiting! I want to know what happened to my child and I want to know now!"
Had they not been in a hospital hallway, Stewart was sure he would have punched the wall. But what good would it make in their current situation? It would only result in him being kicked out. The last thing he needed was to be away from his child…
But he needn't have worried about it – Niles could certainly understand his need to know. He'd been the same way, when Lane had first told him about what had transpired during the long months Miss Babcock had spent locked up. He knew Stewart was hurting. He knew he needed, desperately, to put some ghosts to rest. Or, perhaps, he needed to face them, because reality had proven to be just as horrific as any night terror or bad thought he'd ever had while C.C. was away.
"Alright, alright, I will tell you," Niles said, trying to appease Stewart. "Just…promise me you will let me know if you are feeling unwell or need a minute."
Stewart's reply was a short nod which Niles knew also was his cue to begin.
So, trying to be as gentle as he possibly could, Niles retold the horrors Miss Babcock had experienced. From being chained, starved and beaten on a regular basis, to the frequent sexual abuse. He told her how she'd bravely escaped by jumping off a window and how she'd made it back despite the storm raging on outside.
As he listened to every nightmarish, gruesome detail, Stewart could feel the storm building up inside him, too.
That...that bastard had hurt his daughter! Made her...do things that no one should ever have to do, least of all just to survive being starved or beaten to death!
Why had he not found her before all of this?! What kind of a failure of a father was he, that couldn't bring his daughter home and stop a monster from doing as he pleased?!
It was the second time that night that Stewart looked - and felt - like he could punch the walls. Only this time, he looked as though he'd start and not stop. Not until his knuckles were bloody and broken and pushed far back into the reaches of his hands, and the orderlies had to drag him away to stop him from doing more damage.
It wasn't the perfect substitute for the face of the man who had violated his daughter, but it was a start.
Because, as much as Stewart wanted to break down and weep openly with guilt and grief and rage for not preventing it in the first place, he also wanted to kill now that it was over. He didn't care who knew it, or saw it happen. Lane could bring the guy in that night and he'd happily murder the son of a bitch right in front of her!
Anything. Anything to get the revenge that his daughter deserved. And sometimes, jail just wasn't enough for what these animals did.
No. That was unfair. Animals were better than whatever the hell these things could be classed as! And animals were put down when they attacked people, which now seemed like an unfair standard, when abusers and rapists were allowed to keep their lives.
He needed to know the name. He desperately needed to hear the name of the son of a bitch who had decided he'd hurt Stewart's child. He needed to know the name of his prey – because he was going to hunt that bastard down, even if it was the last thing he ever did.
"Who did it?" Stewart asked quietly, rage permeating from his every word.
"Thomas Jones," Niles replied, his own expression darkening; he too wanted to end the bastard with his own bare hands. "Just as we thought, the son of a bitch did this to your daughter."
"Where is he now?! Where is he so I can go and put a bullet through his fucking head!"
Almost as if to stress his point, Stewart delivered a swift punch to the wall, making a dent on it in the shape of his now bruised knuckles. He cared little about how much he'd have to pay to have it fixed (he had plenty of money to spare) – he needed to relieve the pain inside, and it was either the wall or the first human being that crossed his path.
Niles could understand the feeling, but he´d had hours to cool down. Hours to start to stomach the horrors that had been done to the woman he loved. Hours Stewart hadn't had and would probably need, if he was to be there for C.C.. Gently, Niles reached out and placed a hand on Stewart's outstretched arm moments before it could flex again in preparation for another blow.
"Sir, you need to stop," he said, holding on tight to Stewart's arm. The man was struggling to wrench free from the butler's grasp, clearly in no mood to heed his advice.
"The hell I need to stop!" Stewart screamed, still struggling with the butler, "How can I fucking stop when I let my child be hurt?! Hm?! I fucking dare you to say that to me again!"
"Sir, please think this through!" Niles kept his tone firm but his words were, in fact, pleading, as he held Stewart back from assaulting the wall (or something else) again.
He could already see hospital orderlies in the distance, probably alerted by the yelling, and some of the people in rooms further up – offices or nurses' break rooms, perhaps? – were starting to poke their heads out to see what the commotion was...
This wasn't the time to draw attention to themselves. And as much as Niles would happily join in on the vigilante justice that would no doubt end when they strung up Thomas' lifeless (and genitalia-less) corpse from a tree in the back woods somewhere upstate, they couldn't submit to the rage that they felt right then and there.
He'd had time to think it over. Stewart just needed that time as well, and to stop punching things before he was taken away to a very different ward in the hospital.
"I don't want to think it through, Niles! If I stop and think, I won't do it, and then the bastard wins!" the businessman took another swing at the wall, but with Niles' body weight attached, he missed. "Every day that fucking rapist spends alive is another day he's allowed to get away with it!"
Niles had to physically drag him from the wall to stop him from kicking it that time. When he looked up again, uncomfortable and slightly frustrated, the people who'd been snooping all closed the doors and presumably went back to whatever it was they'd been doing before.
The orderlies were a lot closer, too, probably hovering on the verge of calling security. He had to calm Stewart down, before they'd made up their minds and things got just that little bit more complicated.
The butler somehow managed to drag a livid 6'3" man into the nearest empty room and roughly push him into a small armchair next to the hospital bed. He immediately pressed Stewart's shoulders against the back of the seat, successfully immobilising him. Niles might not be a tall man, but he was far stronger than he appeared to be.
He had years of hard physical labour to thank for that.
"Let me go!" demanded Stewart, struggling against Niles, "Let me go right now, you fucking son of a filthy bitch!"
But Niles wouldn't budge. Despite Stewart's attempts at kicking and punching him, he held him in place. He'd never imagined he'd ever have to do this to Stewart, but until the man had regained his bearing he simply couldn't leave him to his own devices. God knows what he'd do…
"I am warning you, Niles!" Stewart continued to scream, "Don't force me to hurt you!"
"I think it's the other way round, sir," Niles replied in a calm and collected voice – he knew he had to keep a tight grip on his emotions since Stewart was clearly unable to. "If you don't calm down this instant, you'll either end up being kicked out or you'll force me to hold you here until you decide to act like a bloody human being!"
"Fuck off, Brightmore!" the older man howled, "You have no right–"
"Neither do you!" Niles screamed back – he could hear security rushing down the corridor, so he'd rather deescalate the situation before they both got kicked out of the hospital. "Can't you get it in your head that this is not a time for vengeance?! Don't you think I don't want to end that bloody bastard, too?! Because I do! I want him tom have a slow and painful death – to drag out his suffering until he begs me for release! But this is not the moment! Not when your child is a few doors down and in desperate need of her family! She is the priority, not your thirst for revenge!"
The last of his words resounded in the room, before it fell back into silence.
He could tell that Stewart was considering his words, but he had no idea what would happen once he had. There were at least two different paths Stewart could take there, and Niles had to be wary of one of them, in case he ended up having to fight back and they both ended up being escorted out by security.
He had urged him to think, and think well. Stewart wasn't an unreasonable man, he was just a man faced with an unreasonable, unjust and unfair situation. Nobody could blame him for being angry. But they could blame him for not keeping it in check when he needed to.
And, deep down, Stewart knew and understood this. He knew he could compromise a whole case by going after the guy before a trial (because things did have to be done the legal way), and that C.C. would probably rather he was there with her than out somewhere, tracking down a guy she never wanted to even think about again.
His girl...she really was back. And Niles was right – she needed him. Not in jail, either, although it would be the most personally satisfying reason for getting a life sentence for murder.
She needed her family around her, whole and complete, and she needed the love that he could give to help her see that life hadn't completely ended the moment she was taken.
The more he thought about how he'd just behaved, a mere wall away from her room, the more Stewart began to feel ashamed. He'd allowed himself to turn into an animal, when what C.C. needed was a father.
He could put his bloodlust to one side to take care of her. It was always there if the slim opportunity ever arose.
But for now, he could only hang his head and sigh.
"You're right...you're right about everything. I'm...sorry."
Niles didn't have the opportunity to reply before security had arrived in the room. The three uniformed men, each and every one of them as wide as they were tall, surrounded them, tasers ready and waiting in their big, rough hands.
"It's alright, gentlemen," Niles quickly spoke, trying to sound as calm as he possibly could. "The situation is under control…"
"Care to explain what the hell's going on in here?!" snapped one of the officers – the biggest, most menacing of the lot. "Brawling in the middle of the ICU? Kicking and punching walls?!"
"And we are terribly sorry, sir." Niles said, raising his voice. "Mr Babcock here has just reunited with his daughter and…lost his bearings for a moment. It won't happen again."
The mention of the Babcock surname was all that the officers seemed to need to know, because their confrontational attitude soon changed into a sympathetic one. They no doubt knew who Stewart's child was and what had been done to her – probably all the staff knew, at this point. Niles wasn't sure if that was something good, but it had undoubtedly gotten them off the hook with security.
The big one that had only moments ago been prepared to put them both on the ground suddenly seemed to deflate a little. One might even say that he was embarrassed, to have had the reaction he did.
He was only doing his job and neither Niles nor Stewart could fault him for that, but still. He looked like he was sorry that he had even brought it up.
"Just...just so long as it doesn't, sir," the man nodded stiffly, pursing his lips to stop himself from frowning too much. "Have a...restful rest of your night."
He then turned away, his colleagues muttering their own apologies and following him out as they slunk off back to their duties.
It didn't take a genius to work out that the biggest security guard had just avoided telling them to have a good night. Anybody with eyes or a mind to understand knew that they hadn't started off the night by enjoying it, and they sure as hell weren't going to finish it that way, either.
The most joy they could get was in knowing that C.C. was back, alive, and they would find a way through everything.
Maybe one day, they'd be having a good night, and they'd be able to look back and see how far they'd come. But that was for a long time in the future.
For now, just making it through the night was going to be enough.
"Come, sir," Niles said after a few silent moments had gone by. "Let's go back to your daughter's room…"
And so they did. They returned in silence, heads hanging low and hearts heavy in their chests.